


Tending an Empty Plot

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21787453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "So it occurred to me to that whenever the spirits, aka Pitch anf Jack, are walked through by humans, they flinch and gasp as if in pain. Well, what if it really hurts to be walked through? What if the spirits are actually hurt when the humans walk through them? Maybe if it happens often enough, it can be considered a type of torture. So after being walked through often enough, some spirits *cough* Pitch…and maybe Jack *cough* go insane and lash out.Short version: Walking through spirits hurts them, badly. Pitch finally snaps.Bonuses:+100 Jack still becomes a Guardian+500 The Guardians don’t realize being walked through hurts, until Bunny’s walked through by the the children who stop believing in Easter after the eggs don’t show.+1,000 If the Guardians had no idea Jack not only died but has been basically tortured by being walked through his whole life on top of being alone+1,000,000 If Pitch and Jack get together+ Internet Sexy times…please?"So, I didn’t get the lashing out part, because I was trying more to get the pairing and to see how Pitch might use this kind of empathy to manipulate Jack well before the events of the movie.
Relationships: Jack Frost/Pitch Black
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87
Collections: Blackice Short Fics





	Tending an Empty Plot

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 4/18/2015.

“I know what that’s like.” It was the first thing Jack had heard addressed directly to him in decades. Despite the chill running up his spine–another unfamiliar sensation–he could no more ignore the voice than he could grow another day older.  
  
When Jack turned, he saw a tall, thin, man, gray-skinned, standing in the shadows of one of the buildings at this edge of the town, the edge of the town nearest to the forest. His clothes were nothing but featureless shadows draped over him, but with the strange gold glow of his eyes, Jack guessed that he wasn’t the sort to feel the late-November chill, or to want to blend in among ordinary people.  
  
“You mean being walked through,” Jack said. It had happened only seconds before the man had appeared, there was nothing else he could be referring to. Jack’s body, the body he really, truly, had–his hands insisted on it, his clothes insisted on it, the snow and the trees insisted on it, it had to be there!–still ached with the pain of it, the sudden sharpness, the sudden burning, unbearable, even if it ended so quickly.  
  
“It’s enough to make you really hate them,” the man said–casually, but Jack could see he meant it.  
  
“Well, I…don’t.” The thought of hating the people that walked through him, when they didn’t know what they were doing, seemed somehow antithetical to his whole being. But with enough time…maybe it would be possible.  
  
“Do you hate yourself instead?” The man stepped forward, not out into the moonlight, but remaining within the building’s shadow. “It’s their fault, you know. It’s because they don’t believe in you.”  
  
“Who are you?” Jack asked.  
  
When the man smiled, his jagged teeth glinted in the little light that reached him. “You probably haven’t heard my name–Pitch Black. But I hope you’ve heard my title: The Boogeyman.”  
  
Jack narrowed his eyes. On one hand, it wasn’t hard to believe, but on the other, it seemed utterly bizarre that the boogeyman should look so ordinary, talk so sensibly, and offer him sympathy. But then again, why not? He wasn’t a child, so the boogeyman wasn’t his to fear. And if he knew what it was like to be walked through, how could he not feel empathy towards him? “I’ve heard of you,” Jack said. “My name’s Jack Frost. Pleased to meet you.”  
  
“You are, aren’t you? Well then, so am I. Come closer, if you would. Maybe we can speak like our voices have always been answered.”  
  
Reluctantly, though he couldn’t place his finger on why, Jack stepped forward. “You can’t come into the light?”  
  
Pitch smiled. “It’s rather unpleasant. But not nearly as much as being walked through. Which again, makes me wonder why you let it happen to you.”  
  
Jack studied Pitch’s face before he said anything more. It was really a handsome face, though sharp and narrow, and his eyes, though they did have a strange glow to them, were large, expressive, and very human. So what if he had sharp teeth? He was the boogeyman. “I let it happen to me because…what if it started to be different? What if I changed and became solid, visible again, and I missed it by–by decades, because I had started avoiding people? That would be worse, a lot worse.”  
  
“It can be dangerous to hope so much,” Pitch said. “No one’s made to withstand pain like that again and again.”  
  
“But if I _don’t_ , there’s no chance–” Jack glanced down to see Pitch holding out his hand.  
  
“There’s a certainty right here,” Pitch said. He smiled a little, keeping his teeth hidden. “For whatever you want. I’m alone, too, Jack. And if I could pick someone not to be alone with–but perhaps you’ve caught my meaning and you’re not interested, I shouldn’t have presumed…” He began to draw his hand back.  
  
Before he could think more, Jack reached out and grabbed it. He held his hand in his, solidly. Pitch’s hand was much warmer than his, and his skin didn’t feel quite like Jack’s own, though he wasn’t sure which was farther from normal. “This is–I’ve missed–I’ve never had–” Still in shock, he pulled Pitch into an embrace, into the moonlight. After several long moments, he began to stumble over an apology, but Pitch merely stroked his hair, silencing him.  
  
“It’s all right, Jack,” he murmured. “It’s not nearly so awful, now.”  
  
Jack nodded against his shoulder, and Pitch smiled knowingly up at the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> kazechama said: This is beautiful. You’d believe Pitch is honest until he smiles at the moon at the end. Little bastard. And how Jack hugs him because SOMEONE HE CAN TOUCH *gasp* <3 <3


End file.
